Oi live in a village in England
called Widdlington. It’s quite a big village taken all-together, only it’s cut
inter two parts by a river an’ a railway going through the middle. Each part
‘as got its gangs. The part, wot we call “The Street” is real old. It were
started by the Vikings about 1200 years ago. It’s got two gangs. The new part, wot
is where Oi live, were mostly built along Pepper Mill Lane when the railway came. It’s got two gangs an’ all.

A lot o’ the barneys us kids ‘ave, start
because of our soapbox carts. The fing is, most of the kids, includin’ the
girls, loike ter race’ their carts down the Mountain Glide, wot is an old
gravel pit. There we sometoimes ‘ave races between the gangs, wot don’t always
go real amicably (cripes, there’s a super word fer yew!). Moi cart is real
fast. She’s called “Emmeline P”because
of Mrs Emmeline Pankhurst the famous suffragette, wot got votes fer women. Fact
is, Oi don’t reckon as ‘ow there ain’t nobody more famous than wot she is, ‘cos
she didn’t never give up, not even when fings looked real bad against ‘er.

Monday, 1 August 2016

Oi
dunno about yew, but most of the people wot Oi know belong ter some sort o’
gang.

O’
course, they don’t often call it a gang, but give it some sorta name loike,
club, or society, association, or party, wot don’t prevent it being a gang,
loike in the proverb about birds of a fevver gangin’-up tergevver, if’n yew see
wot Oi mean.

Lots o’
gangs are made up of the people wot live in the same place, loike the first
gang wot Oi was in – the
Pepper Mill Lane Mob – until
Oi ‘ad a row wiv JJ the leader, about girls bein’ second class members. Oi said
as ‘ow ‘ee were a rotten ol’ misogynist, so ‘ee chucked me out, even though Oi
don’t reckon as ‘ow ‘ee even knows wot the word means. Since then Oi’ve been in
a couple of ovver gangs, wot shows yew as ‘ow yew c’n be in more’n one gang at
a toime, if’n yew want.

One o’
them gangs is called “Gang America”, even if’n Oi ain’t American, an’ ain’t
never been out o’ moi village o’ Widdlington, ‘cept ter go ter London by train
one toime, wot were a real ol’ barney.

Any’ow,
them wot was in “Gang America”, ‘ad a bit of a difference of opinion wiv the
commandant of the US Army Air Force Base wot were built near our village, so we
all ‘ad ter gang-up tergevver against ‘im ter ‘elp ‘im see reason, as it were.
P’raps we ought ter ‘ave called it a “party”, ‘cos it were mostly about
politics, rights, an’ territories, loike in the USA wiv the drummin’ Democrats
an’ the trumpetin’ Republicans. Only it weren’t really no ‘appy fun party, wot
with the war an’ the bombers an’ everyfink.

Sunday, 19 July 2015

We
ain’t got one in our garden ‘cos the chicken run already takes up a lot o’
room. But that don’t really matter ‘cos there’s some people wot reckon as ‘ow
the whole World is a green’ouse an’ we’re makin’ it ‘otter an’ ‘otter by
breathin’ out carbon dioxide, an’ riding around in motor cars, an’ such ovver
stuff wot makes carbon dioxide, so it’s all our own stupid fault.

Any’ow,
there’s a whole lot o’ argy-bargy goin’ on about all that; even about wevver it
really is getting’ ‘otter. Yew see, the trouble is that the World ain’t got no
fundamental orifice where yew c’n stick a thermometer -- not loike me when Oi
‘ad the chicken pox -- so yew’ve got ter work out wot yew fink the average
temperature is in real complicated ways.

Well
them wot believe as ‘ow we all live in a green’ouse wot’s getting’ 'otter an’
‘otter, c’n believe it if’n they want, but it don’t seem ter make a whole lot
o’ sense ter me, ‘cos the air in a green’ouse gets ‘ot when the sun shines ‘cos
the air can’t get out through the glass, wot ain’t the case out in the World.

Besides,
there ain’t normally no clouds in a green’ouse, an’ if’n yew fink about it,
it’s when there are fewer clouds that it gets ‘ot. When there are more of ‘em
their shadder cools fings down. So Oi reckon as ‘ow clouds ‘ave got a real lot
ter do wiv whevver it gets ‘otter or colder.

An wot
makes clouds?

Nobody
don’t yet really know fer certain all about that, ‘cos it’s real complicated,
jus’ loike wot measurin’ the temperature of the whole World is. Even so, it
ain’t no secret as ‘ow the sun ‘as a lot ter do wiv makin’ clouds, an’ the sun
‘as been actin’ real peculiar lately. An’ Oi don’t reckon as ‘ow temperature
‘as much ter do wiv a real little bit o' gas loike wot yew find in a green’ouse,
even if’n the green’ouse is as big as the whole World.

Makes yew fink don't it? Well, it ain't no more daft'n some of them ovver ideas floatin' around about the climate. An' it don't give off no green'ouse gases neither-- well, not much any'ow... http://www.peterstjohn.net/index_9.htm

I
was the last to arrive at Dummy's birthday party. Everyone was sitting stiffly
around the table in the school shelter. Nobody was speaking.

I went straight up to
Mr Pearce. His much-worn clothes were too tight round the waist and under the
arms. He seemed ill at ease.

‘Happy birthday,
Daniel,’ I said.

‘Arrgh, thank'ee
kindly,’ he replied. He showed his misshapen teeth through a matted beard in
what was more a grimace than a smile.

‘What's the matter
Daniel? Aren't they looking after you properly?’

‘Reckon as 'ow it's
more'n a little whiles since ol' Dan'l 'ad a party fer 'is birthday. Reckon as
'ow 'ee's roight thankful. There be a fine cake with candles wot Miss Winnifred
gave and Miss Molly's biscuits an' all.’‘You could look a bit
happier about it,’ I said.

‘Me neither,’ said
Katy.‘You are
going to help then, Miss Hangar?’ said Jenno.

‘Yes Jenno, er—
Jean,’ said Miss Hangar. ‘I'll do what I can; but you know, there's really very
little I can do now concerning the
allotments. The project is already approved and far advanced.

‘As for The Old
Vicarage, it's a decision for the Church and the vicar. Any interference by the
school would only arouse resentment. But I can certainly help Mr Pearce to
learn to read and write. That way he could become independent of support from
the Parish.’

‘And not go into a
home!’ exclaimed Molly. She stuffed her knuckles into her mouth and looked
horrified towards Daniel.

‘Don't ye be a-fazed
none, Miss Molly,’ said Daniel gently. ‘Ol' Dan'l baint be deaf; 'ee knows
roight well wot people say. 'Ee bain't be such a dummy as 'ow they think.’

An embarrassed
silence fell. It was broken by Winnifred: ‘I think it's about time we lit the
candles. Who's got some matches?’

‘I'll ask my mum,’
said Leta. ‘Wait a tic and I'll nip indoors and get some.’ She ran into the
school caretaker's house and emerged a moment later rattling a box of matches. ‘We didn't know how
many candles to put on, but in any case, Hibberd's store only had one box—it's
the war you know—so we put them all on. There are twenty.’